A Warrior's Heart
by flippingheck
Summary: Skyrim. Two decades has passed since the Alduin-slaying Dragonborn passed. The land is in peace. Dragons were a rare sight. But now attacks are on the rise and a young man finds himself at the whim of destiny. Another Dragonborn is discovered. But why so soon? Perhaps something more insidious lurks on the horizon.
1. Chapter 1: The Legend Yet Grows

Blackness. _Eyes must be closed. _

The room was fuzzy at first, but the details eventually came into vision. Across the room was a bench with coloured bottles and wooden bowls. I could see sprigs of lavender and other similar things I didn't recognise. A small bookcase rested next to the door a few feet away from the end of the bed. Beside me was a washcloth and bowl of water with some herb soaking in it. I closed my eyes and took a long breath.

Where was I? My mind slipped back into oblivion.

I woke to a soft scraping sound. A woman stood at the bench with what I could only assume was a mortar and pestle. Light streamed onto the floor from under the curtains. If only I could get a look outside and see where I was. My hand reached out.

A wail burst from my lips. The girl spun around. My arm shook. I had never felt such a shock of pain. My back and shoulder throbbed as I froze in position.

"No, no, no," said the girl, "Don't move." She hurried to my side and took my arm, gently turning me onto my back. A few bolts of pain ran through me, but nothing so tortuous as before. She knelt beside the bed and examined my shoulder.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"Falkreath," she told me, still looking down. I turned my head toward her.

Most of her chestnut hair was tied into a messy bun, the exception being the thin braid hanging to the left of her face.

"I'm Elyna," she said, looking up me. My breath caught in my throat. Her big, green eyes studied my face as I looked at her.

"Herric," I replied, swallowing.

"That dragon certainly did a number on you," she said. My eyes widened. "Though I guess for a dragon, you were lucky and a half," she added.

"Dragon?" I blurted, jolting. I grimaced.

"Falkreath's first attack, yes," she said. She gently pushed me back down.

"...I'm sorry."

She gave me a questioning look.

"I remember the dragon attack on Whiterun. I was here when it happened. I run deliveries with your blacksmith and Adrianne in Whiterun." I explained, "When I returned, it was... like a dream. It took a while for all that devastation to sink in. They managed to keep it outside the walls, but we lost a lot of men."

"If only you had gotten home a day earlier, eh?"

I frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, holding her hands to her mouth, "I thought you would have remembered by now."

"Remembered what?"

"You killed the dragon," she said, "It used some sort of magic on you just as it died... from your scream I thought you were dead."

It hit me. That's right. I did remember. The flames on the rooftops and the humans all rushing about as if they could stop the mighty dragon. Pitiful arrows scraped at the dragon's sides, but one lucky shot caught well in the wing. It had to land, if only to regain balance. But that's all that one human needed. As it was distracted by the guards, he made his move.

Hefting a greatsword, he plunged the tip into my –

_My? _

The images flashing through my head were true, I knew it. I _had_ killed that dragon. The greatsword sliced down its neck. As it died, a struggling talon clipped my shoulder. Then my vision went strange. Blurry. And I felt as if I had a force strong enough to send me back leagues plummet into my chest.

I placed a hand to my neck. It was almost as if I could remember that steel biting into my flesh and tearing me open. But that was the dragon. Not me.

"Are you alright?"

"Hm?" My mind zoomed back to the present. "I'm fine. I just..." I rubbed by neck, "I just remembered."

She smiled at me. A tender smile. She fingered the flesh on the edges of my wound. I winced a few times.

"Roll over for me," she said.

"Why?"

"I need to bathe it," she explained. I nodded and she helped me turn onto my side.

I heard her slosh the washcloth around in the water and wring it out a little. She applied it to a spot just under my left shoulder blade – where the wound began I supposed. The liquid seeped into my flesh and stung. When the sting subsided, the pain had dulled and it felt soothing.

"The wound starts here," she said, "And ends at the top of your shoulder. Your clavicle is fractured too."

"Nothing broken?"

"No. Not even a bad fracture," she said.

"How long would I have to stay here?" I asked, "I haven't sent word to Adrianne, she'll be worried."

"Maybe a couple more days," she said, "I'll use some spells on you tonight and we'll see how you go tomorrow."

"Okay," I said. She smiled in response. "And thank you."

"My father runs the healing hut here," she said, "I'm just doing my job." She dabbed the last bit of the wound and placed the cloth in the bowl. A tendril of blood smoked its way through the water.

"Elyna!" called a voice.

"That's him now, I had better go," she said, "Get some rest, alright?"

"Alright," I said, rolling onto my back.

She paused at the door and turned to me, smiling. I smiled back. An impatient groan from her father made her hurry off.

Sighing, I settled more comfortably into the pillow. I had remembered the attack as if I was flying over the town. I saw from the dragon's eyes. Perhaps there was some connection between a dragon and its killer. That last attack though, whatever it was, surely there'd be something to show for it. Magic that strong can't have faded away.

My mind kept to its wander, slowly falling into sleep. As I drifted, one word resonated within my being. It felt as though it were directed at me. Like I had heard it recently when I knew I hadn't.

Dovahkiin.

While I was no expert in the dragon's tongue, everyone knew what that meant. Dragonborn. But there was no Dragonborn. She passed two decades ago. And Alduin was defeated. No sense if_ I_ was...

My dreams were plagued with fire. And blood. Again, I flew over Falkreath, spewing flame. A gust caught under my wings and sent me upward, into the path of an arrow that sunk into me. Another joined it. I landed to quickly regain my balance. Fire shot from my mouth at the group of guards. Then I felt it. Sharp steel under my jaw, slicing down my throat.

I jolted upward and cried out. Instantly a hand was on my chest and forced me back down. Sweat covered my body. The sheets were damp. There were a few moments where I realised Elyna and a man were beside me. Her father. Something pressed against my chest, but whoever pushed me before had removed their hand. A groan escaped my lips. All my limbs felt heavy. My chest was being crushed. Another groan. I was barely aware the sound was coming from me.

I was hot. Then cold. My skin burned. Touch was unbearable. I squirmed, trying the get the thin sheet off my body. I clawed at my chest, leaving scratches from my fingernails.

I was vaguely aware of Elyna talking to me. "It's alright, it's alright," she would repeat to me as she dabbed my body with herb-infused water.

"Drink this," said her father and shoved a bottle into my face. I took it and gulped down whatever liquid he had given me. It had a tang and soft warmth but did nothing to quell my pain.

My vision was fading in and out. Things would be blurry for a few moments, then clear as day, and slowly it would blacken from the edges. I had to get up, get moving. Work my body. Get blood pumping to my muscles and take control of myself.

I swung a hand out to try and use momentum to get me up. Elyna's father held it down to the bed.

"No," I puffed, "Let me...move."

"Herric just calm down, you'll be alright," said Elyna.

"No, no, no, no," I muttered. Snatching my arm from her father, I tried to sit up. He pushed me back down. My muscles started to spasm. I let out an irritated groan. Like a toddler having a tantrum, I kicked out with my legs.

"Let me up," I uttered.

"No," said the man, "This is for your own safety, just stay there."

"Please let me up," I pleaded.

"No."

I groaned between clenched teeth and opened my mouth to a scream. The pressure on my chest became tenfold worse. "Let me up!" I yelled and lashed out, hitting the man hard on the side of the head. I rolled my body over in the same movement, forcing Elyna back. My feet swung over the side of the bed but slipped against the floor, the rest of me tumbling out. Everything hit the floor hard. Especially my head. It smacked against the wood and rebounded, connecting again afterwards.

Somewhere in that pain came clarity. As my body jolted against the floor, I realised it. There was something in me that wasn't...me. I stopped fighting it. My body went limp. A gush of power escaped me and the only thing it left behind was the word _Dovahkiin _echoing in my head.


	2. Chapter 2: Thaneship

It was amazing. When I woke the next morning I felt as if everything in all Skyrim was somehow better, greater than had been the previous day. Especially me. I barely noticed the twinge in my shoulder as I sat up. I looked at the wound. Clearing up nicely.

"Morning Herric," said Elyna as she entered the room.

"Good morning," I nodded. Her figure moved across the floor, her blue dress clinging to her waist and flowing out at her legs. A smile couldn't help but split my lips. I heard a pair of heavy footsteps enter the room. Elyna's father stood in the doorway, watching me. A soft purple bruise outlined his left eye. His eyes studied me, but on my life I couldn't read his face. It was blank as parchment. A thought trickled over his eyes and he took a deep sigh.

"Half breed, aren't you?" he asked.

My brow furrowed. "Yes I am."

"Half Nord, half..."

"I always thought Dark Elf."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know my father," I explained, "Mum never told me who he was."

"Well your mother must be a Nord," he said. I cocked my head.

"You look Nordic. Tall, very tall. Sturdy build, powerful figure. The pale blue of your eyes, almost everything about you is Nordic. And half breed children usually take on most features from their mother," he said, "It's just your hair and ears that are out of place."

I always knew my hair was a telltale sign. Thick, dry and black. It reminded me of soft wool, almost like the kind you find on a baby mammoth. I never thought people would notice my ears though. They had a slight point, only noticeable if you looked at them properly. The upper ear was flatter than most human races and I assumed it was due to the tip at the end.

"Yes, I know," I replied.

The room fell into silence. Elyna was mixing up herbs and her father just stood in the doorway, looking at me. I swallowed.

"I'm Herric, by the way."

"I know."

I looked at his bruise. The edges were yellow. I must have hit him pretty hard.

"...Sorry about..." I gestured to the area of the face.

"Don't bother yourself with it," he said, "You didn't know what you were doing."

Just as the silence began to settle again, Elyna walked over and spread a salve on my shoulder. I hadn't noticed how stiff it was until the warmth of the balm seeped into my skin. I took a deep breath and smiled at her. "Thank you," I said.

"We used some magic on it when you were unconscious," she said, "You should be able to go today."

"Today?" I had hoped on staying longer and getting to know her better. The tone of voice betrayed the reason behind my unwillingness to leave and her father sent me a glare.

"As soon as possible," he said and left the room.

"He seemed a little...hostile," I said.

"You did hit him in the face," said Elyna.

"Why was he so interested in my race anyway?"

"He studied them for a bit when he was a student," she said, "It always helps to know the race of a patient. Some things react or work differently."

"Seemed a little more than that."

Elyna shrugged.

"Half breed," I huffed.

"But you are," said Elyna, "He didn't mean anything by it."

"He doesn't have to say it like that," I defended, "There's too many people who truly think half breeds are an abomination to ask so casually about it. I mean we hadn't even really met before and he comes straight out and asks me."

"He is a little rude sometimes," she said, "He doesn't mean to be, he's just not very...tactical."

"Mmm, I can see that," I said, "What _is_ his name, by the way."

"Rodyn," she said, retrieving a bandage from a drawer under the table. She sat beside me on the bed and wrapped it around my shoulder and chest so it stayed in place.

"He does seem to want you to leave though," she said, "Usually waits longer to let a patient go. Dad's never had a problem with half breeds before. He's certainly not racist."

"Half-breedist?" I offered. She looked up at me and smiled, a small laugh escaping her lips.

"Not that either," she said.

I smiled at her as her green eyes looked up at me again. "Now," she said, as she finished bandaging my wound, "I'm not taking the stiches out, they need to be in for a little longer. Talk to Yolda at the Whiterun potion shop in three days, she'll take them out for you. When that's done, you can use this balm for a few days after the stiches come out just to help it along."

She handed me a small pot.

"How much is it?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said, "The Jarl is paying for expenses."

"The Jarl? Why?"

"It might have something to do with you killing the dragon," she said with a good humoured grin.

"Oh...right," I said, "Of course." I shook my head a little.

"He wants to reward you before you leave as well," she said, "He sent a message saying so."

I nodded slowly.

I had never met a Jarl before. Briefly, I caught sight of Jarl Nelkir in Whiterun when I delivered a message from Adrianne to the steward. I'd seen him giving speeches of course, but nothing other than that.

"How do you talk to a Jarl?" I asked.

"You haven't done it before?"

I shook my head.

"Well, you give a small bow and they usually start the talking," she said, "It's not complicated. Jarls don't usually expect too much ceremony."

"Alright," I said.

"Siddgeir can be a bit cold, but he's mellowed with age," said Elyna, "And considering your reason for meeting him, I doubt he'll be hostile."

She got up from beside me and grabbed my shirt from the table. "Here you are," she said throwing it at me. I caught it before it could land on my face.

"I stitched up the shoulder."

"Thank you."

I got to my feet and pulled it over my head. She handed me my belt and I put it around my waist.

"Your horse and cart are fine, they're at the stables. The mare was quite skittish for a few days, but she's fine now. We managed to gather most of the ingots and things you were carrying. Quite a bit flew off in the attack," she said.

"Thank you," I said, eyes wandering over her face as she talked. She looked up at me.

"Ready to go then?" she said.

I took a deep sigh and gave a small smile. "I guess so."

A moment of silence settled where our eyes held gazes.

"Oh! Your axe," she said, breaking the quiet, "Dad moved it from the room after you hit him, just in case, but I'll go get it now." She hurried off.

I sighed.

She came back and handed it over. I felt the familiar wooden handle, the leather wrapped around it moulding to my grip. Sliding it into the ring on my belt, its comfortable weight settled at my right hip. I ran a finger across the flat of the iron before looking back at Elyna.

"You look like you know that axe very well," she observed.

"I should hope so, I forged it," I told her, "had to use it a couple times too."

Rodyn's clunking steps trod near the room. He appeared at the door and as soon as he saw how near I stood to his daughter, a flicker of irritation tumbled over his face.

"Time to go," he said. I nodded and waited for him to leave so I could say goodbye to Elyna. He didn't.

"Thank you so much for what you've done for me," I said to them both, "I truly appreciate it." I inclined my head toward Elyna. "Goodbye," I said.

"Goodbye."

I went to the door to follow Rodyn from the building.

"Maybe I'll see you on your next delivery," she said. I looked back at her and smiled.

"Maybe."

Her father quickly exited the room, motioning for me to follow. He opened the door for me and stood, shuffling his weight from foot to foot.

"Thank you," he mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"The dragon," he uttered, "It could have taken much longer if you hadn't intervened. Lives would have been lost. So...thank you."

"It was luck that did it, not I," I said, "Anyone might've killed it."

"Still," said Rodyn, "It _was_ you. And everyone is very grateful the attack was a short one."

"Well then," I said, "I thank you for your gratefulness."

He stood, not quite looking me in the eyes. The man was almost a head shorter than I was. "The Jarl will probably be expecting you," he said.

"Right," I responded, "Goodbye then." I stepped outside, "and thank you."

"Thank _you_," he said and closed the door.

As I walked through Falkreath, I noticed the people looking at me. Many were the stares of failed recall, not quite remembering from where they had seen me before. Others would smile a grateful grin.

First, I went to the horse. I stroked her nose and cooed to her softly. She seemed unperturbed by the previous events. Haze never was a very alert horse. I found my cart nearby, covered over with canvas. Pulling it off, I saw most of the ingots and other wares. A few were damaged, but there was still enough to do my trade with the blacksmith.

Frald was happy to do the trade at the normal price as thanks for killing the dragon. We exchanged wares for gold as well as some weapons and armour and he sent me on my way. To the Jarl.

Heads turned toward me as I entered the Jarl's Longhouse. Siddgeir sat on his throne and shooed away his steward, beckoning me over. I swallowed.

"Herric, am I correct?" he said.

"Yes sir," I affirmed, as I took a place I hoped to be an appropriate distance from the throne. I bowed.

"Of?"

"Of Whiterun, sir."

"Well, Herric of Whiterun," said the Jarl, "I extend an offer of Thaneship to you as well as a monetary reward for your service to my Hold."

"Thaneship?" I blurted, then bit back my words, "I would be honoured, my lord."

"Very well, I name you Thane of Falkreath Hold and bestow a weapon from my armoury as a sign of your title."

The steward handed me a greatsword, sheathed in its scabbard. The weight dropped down on me.

"This blade has seen the end of many raids on my hold and protected it through them all," said the Jarl, "Now it is yours as you have protected my people from the greatest threat seen in decades. Its enchantment ensures it will block as well as any shield would."

"Thank you my Jarl," I stuttered.

"It is Falkreath that thanks you," he said. The steward gave me an indication that I should now leave. I bowed once again and soon I was back on the road, trundling along to Whiterun.


End file.
